So Little You Know, So Little You Care
by Simply Shortstack
Summary: Lamenting over everyone's favorite womanizer


Hey, this is Shortstack from the two-person best friend writing team "Shortstack and Fishface." We've been working on our story "And Then There Was You" and I came down with a severe case of writer's block. I sat down and began typing to try and kill it, and this little story came about. By far it's no original idea, but some of it is a bit different. Maybe the disease has left me, or maybe my Muses are still away on vacation or wherever they went. Anyway, enjoy! Or be disgusted. Either way, give it a chance.  
  
Disclaimer: If I owned any of the newsies, do you really think I'd be sitting here at my computer right now?  
  
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The words are wasted on you, they mean nothing when they escape from my lips, and they fall dead into eternity. I've said them a thousand times, never once getting anything back.  
  
Watching you begin to wake up, I mouth them silently again. You open your eyes to see mine repeating them over and over. But you do nothing but turn over and groan tiredly. I bite back a tear as you climb out of bed. You are no longer mine, I must return you to the world again. I wish so much that we could stay on this bed forever, never having to leave and never missing food or air. I can be your air, and you can eat or drink of my soul whenever you see fit, as long as you stay here with me until the sun dies and freezes the world over.  
  
Standing up and stretching a bit, you search the floor for your shirt, wondering where you carelessly dropped it last night. Finding it, you reach your arms into the sleeves and pull it over your shoulders. I shut my eyes, I can't bear to look at you anymore. You're so damn beautiful that it seems unreal. There's no way that you would ever let me have you all to myself, some day I'll have to give you up to another pretty thing who's caught your eye, so that you can mercilessly tease her with your gorgeous face, perfect form, and delicate touch.  
  
I open my eyes and see that you're about to leave. You walk over to your tiny dresser, which barely manages to stand on its own anymore. The top drawer is opened, and you reach in and pull out a few coins that have been left in a specific place so that you can easily find them every morning. You don't even bother to look at them anymore, you don't need to count the amount, it's always the same. Crossing over to me, you unceremoniously drop the dollar next to me on the pillow. You don't even glance at me, knowing that when I get up the first thing I'll do is put it right back where you found it. That's what I always do, and it's a silent routine that we've somehow developed. It isn't really about whether or not I want the money, it's a fight for my dignity. If I take your money, you'll have won. I'll be another finished conquest. But if I return your dollar every morning, you'll let me come back in the hopes of getting rid of both it and me so that you can move on to someone else.  
  
Now you're walking towards the door, grasping the doorknob to abandon me again.  
  
"I love you."  
  
Pausing, I see you take a deep breath, picturing a frown on your beautiful face. Your other hand thoughtfully glides along the golden tip of the cane in your belt loop. After a second of a thousand lifetimes, you turn around and look at me with a hint of a smirk. There is pity in your eyes, don't tell me you feel sorry for me.  
  
"Sure, babe," your voice is flat and void of emotion. But I feel relieved, at least you didn't tell me not to love you. Even if you did, it's the one command I could never obey.  
  
Without taking another breath, you turn back to the door and open it, slamming it a bit behind you. No tears fall from my eyes, I ran out of them long ago. All I can do is sit and watch the doorway for awhile, envisioning you walking back through it and returning my declaration of love, swallowing the pride that you've allowed to consume you. But it will never happen, the words aren't enough for you. I'm not enough for you.  
  
So I return your dollar back to the drawer and go about finding my own clothing scattered on the floor of your room. Putting on my only dress, I do the best I can to smooth out some of the wrinkles that it gathered from being crumpled on the floor when you nearly ripped it off of me. I do my best to comb my hair out with my fingers, it could use a good washing. With a last look around, I leave your room behind me.  
  
Standing there on the sidewalk, I wish that you only knew how much I love you. I know that when I say it you don't believe me. You think I'm only being a foolish girl and throwing my heart out only to let it be returned in pieces. Every time I say those words I see you wince a bit, you wish I'd never say them. Sometimes I think you'd be a lot happier if I never said anything at all, except to moan your name in your ear in the heat of passion late at night.  
  
It's because I love you that I can get through each day, get through the poking and the prodding of other mens' rough hands and other unspeakable parts in a back alley only to earn a bit of money. When they finish with me and throw a few coins on the ground for me to pick up in shame, I think only of seeing you at night and feeling the warmth of your arms. The thought of going back to you when the sun goes down is more than enough reason to let them have their way. I'll accept the disgusted looks from so- called "upstanding citizens," and even the calls and whistles from those men who only possess one "upstanding" quality, because I have you to return to when it's all over. But my love will never matter to you.  
  
As I stand outside the doorway to your room, I study myself in a tiny mirror I carry around in my small purse along with my day's earnings.  
  
I arrange my hair in that way you like, pushing a bit behind my ear and letting the other side fall freely beside my face. Then I pull my neckline down my shoulders a bit, you commented approvingly on that once, too. Every night I look exactly the same when I go to you, hoping that you'll never want me any less if something is different. First impressions are everything, you'll decide whether or not I can stay as soon as you see me in the doorway. Not that you've ever turned me away, knowing that I'll give you exactly what you want until you're satisfied.  
  
Exhaling deeply, I plaster on a smile and knock upon the door. Hearing your muffled beckoning to enter, I twist the knob and push it open. You're sitting on the edge of the bed as always, giving me the expected once over. Since you don't say anything, I know that I'm allowed to stay again tonight. Your amazing eyes pierce right through to my heart, and I struggle to close the door behind me. As you stand up, I catch my breath in my throat in anticipation.  
  
Approaching me with a quick, long stride, only a second passes before your lips are burning into my neck, marking me as your own yet again. I want you to kiss my lips, but you'll only give me that if I'm a good girl first. You want to pick me up and carry me over to the bed, pressing me down onto it, and I allow you to. You know that I'll let you do whatever you want and keep objections to myself, letting you overpower me. There won't be any pleas for you to stop and let me keep any virtue. The only things that you'll hear are the cries of ecstasy that feed your ever-growing and dominating pride. I allow you to take my heart and use me again, and I hold the pain inside even when it threatens to crush me completely, all because love doesn't mean a thing.  
  
* * * *  
  
Well that was it, I'm surprised you made it this far! Please leave me a tasty review to let me know what you think, I love reviews, and Spot!Muse will kiss you for it. His ego is always growing, you know. Thanks, and Carpe Diem. 


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